


vanilla and lemon

by speckledfeathers



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Birthday, Birthday Cake, Birthday Fluff, Eddie Kaspbrak Deserves Nice Things, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak's Birthday, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Pre-Relationship, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, and that he can enjoy them!, eddie discovers he LIKES things!, good for him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29101635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speckledfeathers/pseuds/speckledfeathers
Summary: It's November 2nd, 2016— a few months after the Losers killed a demon clown, and Richie wants to bake Eddie a cake for his birthday. The only problem? Eddie has no idea what flavor is his favorite.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom & Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak & Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 20
Kudos: 106





	vanilla and lemon

**Author's Note:**

> per usual: i wrote this in one day and barely edited it
> 
> enjoy :)

“Yeah, I’m really happy to help out, Richie. But— where are you right now? This doesn’t look like your apartment.”

“Ah— good observation, Haystack.” Richie licked his cream cheese covered finger clean and then wiggled his eyebrows over at his phone that was propped up against the backsplash. “I’m at Eddie’s place.”

“What?” Ben sounded more confused than surprised. “He didn’t say anything about having plans with you tonight.”

“Mmmm yeah, that’s because he doesn’t know.” Now there were two people in on the secret: Bev and Ben. As he started measuring out the powdered sugar, Richie let out a nervous chuckle. “It’s a surprise.”

Ben took a moment to process, and then cleared his throat. “So we’re making Eddie’s birthday cake right now? And you’re in his apartment? Baking for him?”

“Yes, smarty pants! Honestly, I’m surprised Bev didn’t tell you anything. She and I have been planning this for a few weeks now.” He started carefully unwrapping a stick of room temperature butter and then tossed it in the bowl. “She’s the one that let me in.”

Richie watched as Ben smiled and then shrugged. “Bev’s good at keeping secrets— and I mean that in a good way. She and Eddie have been through a lot. They trust each other. I’m not surprised that she kept this to herself.”

“Ah, fair enough. You’ve got a point.” Richie and Bev were close in their own way, but he knew that she and Eddie had bonded a lot the past few months. Messy divorces, trauma, the whole lot. They had keys to each other’s apartments and Richie was glad that they were so close. “She trusted me enough to leave me alone with all of Eds’ stuff. Though she did threaten to shave my head if I did anything stupid to make Eddie upset.”

Ben laughed. 

“I love her so much.” Richie replied, laughing as well.

“Yeah.” Ben nodded. “Me too.”

“Ugh, gross. Keep it in your pants, Ben.”

“Shut it, Trashmouth. Who flew across the country to bake their best friend a cake?”

Richie’s heart rate shot up. “Did I— was this a mistake?” Maybe this was too much. Maybe Eddie would be overwhelmed and freak out and then Richie would have to change his name and flee the country. His eyes flicked over to the four cakes of various sizes cooling off to the side, and suddenly he regretted everything.

“What? No, Richie. I was kidding.” His voice softened, aware that this was a sensitive topic for Richie. “He’s going to love it.”

Richie wasn’t quite convinced, but his broad shoulders relaxed a bit. “Alright, well— anything left to add to this frosting before I _whip it good?”_

“A teaspoon and a half of vanilla, and a pinch of salt. Then you’re all set.”

“Bless your heart, Benjamin. But if Eddie ends up hating it, I’m directing all his sugar-induced rage back to you.” He reached for the hand mixer and then plugged it in. “Now if you would excuse me, I’m about to get creamed.”

“Yeah yeah. Good luck, and tell Eddie I said Happy Birthday.” Then Ben hung up, and Richie was left alone with lots of cakes.

“Alright, Tozier.” Both hands swiped down the length of his apron, and then he took in a deep breath. “Let’s get to work.”

***

“Seriously Bev, why the hell did we order this much food?” 

“Because it’s your birthday and we’re going to eat as much as we damn well please.” Bev shut her car door and walked over to where Eddie was getting out of his. She stopped a few feet away to send a text, then slid her phone into her back pocket and reached out to grab one of the bags from him. “Gimme that.”

Eddie handed her the smaller one, then grabbed his cane and started towards the entrance to his apartment building. As they walked he tried to shoo her away from stealing the other bag from him but she was persistent, and eventually he relented.

Their elevator ride up to his floor was loud and full of laughter, and if there had been more time Bev was ready to dive into her lo mein right then and there. She was about to open her container when they stopped and the door dinged open.

“Thank god. I really didn’t want to see you eating noodles in an elevator with your fingers.” Eddie gently bumped their shoulders together as they exited.

Bev snorted. “It’s part of my charm, Eddie. You’ve seen me do worse.”

“True.” He fished his keys out of his pocket and when the door swung open, he was hit with a wave of warm, sweet smelling air.

“What the f—” It was like someone spilled a bottle of vanilla and lemon all over the floor. It was overwhelming and confusing and wonderful and suddenly Eddie forgot all about the heaps of Chinese food Bev was hauling in her arms. She stayed behind him, both arms full, and couldn’t help but smile deviously once she and Eddie caught sight of what was waiting for them in the kitchen.

“Richie?”

His best friend was standing somewhat awkwardly, but proudly, by the stove. Next to him on the counter was a four tier cake that was beautifully decorated, each level unique. The rest of the room was spotless, and the only thing that gave Eddie a hint of what had happened was the batter and frosting smeared apron that Richie was wearing.

Bev slid into the apartment and closed the door behind her, setting the food down on the small table in Eddie's kitchen. She looked between the two idiots as they gawked at each other— Eddie with his mouth open, Richie with a toothy grin pinching his cheeks. She rolled her eyes and then walked back over to Eddie, carrying her portion of the food.

“Happy Birthday, Eds.” She kissed him on the cheek.

He turned to her, expression softening. “You—?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “It was his idea though. Hope you don’t mind that I let him in.” Then before he could say anything else, she gave his ass a light smack and moved him away from the door so she could leave. “You boys have fun. We’ll celebrate another night, Eddie. Just text me.”

Once Bev was gone, neither of them moved.

“Hey, Eds.” Richie waved, then gestured to the cake. “Happy Birthday.”

Eddie blinked a few times, still trying to process what was happening. Richie was here. In his apartment. Wearing an apron. Standing next to a giant cake that he most likely baked himself. His brain felt like it was glitching. “You’re supposed to be L.A.”

“Uhm—” Richie gulped and his eyes darted away. “Yeah. But now I’m here. Is.. that okay?”

“Yes!” He answered, almost too quickly, and then finally stepped into the kitchen. They were only a few feet apart now, and Eddie felt his cheeks warm. “I just can’t believe you flew out to see me. And that you baked me a ridiculous size cake.”

Eddie watched as Richie chuckled nervously and then reached up to rub the back of his neck. It was hard to ignore every little detail now— the small spot of flour on his cheek, the way his arm bulged in his shirt as he reached back, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “I missed you, Richie.”

Richie’s eyes snapped back to Eddie immediately. His toothy grin was replaced with a softer, crooked one. “I missed you too, Eddie. I really wanted to be here for your birthday. Is this too much?”

“No, Rich.” Eddie moved over to set his cane to lean against the table with the Chinese food on it, but was soon back to standing right in front of Richie— a little bit closer even. “It’s very.. you. And really sweet.”

“Was that a pun?”

“Yeah, I worked really hard on that one.” Eddie playfully rolled his eyes and smiled. “You really baked all of these yourself?”

Richie tried not to smile too big, blue eyes scanning his work before returning to Eddie’s face. “Yup. Did all the decorating too. Mind if I give you the tour?”

“—Richie I live here.”

“Ha!” Along with a small bout of laughter, Richie snorted as a hand flew to his chest. “Not the apartment, Spaghetti Man. The cakes.”

“Oh.” Eddie shrunk a bit with his embarrassment, cheeks burning a light pink. “Right. Please continue.”

“You thought I meant your apartment.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“That’s fucking adorable!”

“Dude!” Eddie gave his arm a light smack. His brows were pinched together above his big brown eyes and Richie took a moment to stare into them before easing up.

“Alright, okay!” When Eddie smacked him Richie recoiled in an exaggerated fashion before standing up straight. “This is no normal birthday cake, Eddie darling. Mostly because you couldn’t pick a favorite flavor if your life depended on it, but no worries— I made it work.”

“Is this why you tried to get me to talk about cake all the time?” Eddie scoffed lightly, baffled but pleasantly surprised.

“Mhmm. And that’s the perfect segway into all of this— down at the bottom we have the ultimate chocolate cake. You mentioned chocolate the most, so there’s more of it. Then we have the lemon, which you also seemed fond of. We better take a picture of that one before we slice it up because that color gradient on the frosting was not easy to get right.”

Eddie didn’t know where to look as Richie started explaining. He wanted to stare at Richie’s mouth as it moved, he wanted to track the blue eyes shining from behind his glasses, he wanted to watch his animated hands as he motioned to each aspect of the cake. But Eddie instead chose to glue his gaze to the soft white and yellow frosting on the second cake. It was beautiful, and he could feel himself starting to get choked up.

“There’s a red velvet layer above the lemon— which is a recipe I stole from Ben. So if you hate it, please blame him. That’s important to remember, it’s not my fault. And then the little one at the top is classic vanilla, but I made it colorful. What is it called? Funfetti?” Richie stole a glance at Eddie to see how he was responding, and his smile dropped when it came to his attention that Eddie was hiding his face in his hands.

“Oh shit, Eddie? Hey—” Richie’s hands ended up hovering a mere inch above Eddie’s form, unsure of whether or not he could touch but desperately wanting to. Eddie’s shoulders were shaking and he would do anything to make it stop. Obviously, he had done something wrong. Overstepped a boundary. Said something stupid. “Are you okay? Do you-do you want me to go?”

“No, you bastard—” The words were muffled from underneath Eddie’s hands but Richie heard them well enough. And then in an instant Eddie’s arms were around him, pulling him close. “You’re not going anywhere.”

As Eddie pulled him into his grasp Richie sucked in a breath and held it, arms and hands still hovering away from Eddie like it was taboo to touch. He heard Eddie sniffle and then bury his face into his shoulder. Richie was afraid that Eddie would be able to hear and feel how fast his heart was racing, and how he immediately went stiff.

Eddie didn’t seem to notice or care, and instead squeezed him tighter. “Thank you.”

“Oh.” The words caught in Richie’s throat as he finally gave in and carefully wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist. “It’s just a cake, Eds. But you’re welcome. I’m really glad you like it.”

“God, Rich. It’s not about the cake.” 

Richie always wondered how Eddie managed to sound both happy and annoyed at the same time, just like he did now. But he was also quiet, and vulnerable, so Richie suppressed his normal urge to make playful jabs. They stayed pressed together, and slowly Richie started to relax.

Eddie wanted to wait until he stopped crying to move away, but also Richie smelled like vanilla and sugar and his arms were strong and warm. He was okay to stay here for a little while. “I mean, it is about the cake— but it’s not what you think.”

They had missed each other. This hug was the obvious proof. The way they lingered and spaced their words slowly so they had an excuse to stay put. The way their hands gently moved across the other’s back, trailing sparks behind them. The way they were both breathing heavy and their hearts were starting to beat in unison, but they both felt calm like they hadn’t felt since the last time they were together. Eddie nuzzled farther into Richie’s shoulder, his tears soaking the fabric pressed against his cheek. Richie let out a happy sigh and leaned his head against Eddie’s, his glasses being pushed into an awkward position as a result. He didn’t care. They were together and they were happy and while neither of them were quite ready to admit it yet, they were looking forward to doing this everyday for the rest of their lives.

The world stopped for a few minutes and then started spinning again, slow and steady, once they pulled away. Richie took the chance to wipe one of Eddie’s cheeks dry as they looked at each other, arms still hooked around the other’s body. Eddie let him.

When they finally let go completely, a strange energy settled over the room. It was new and it was strong and magnetizing, but they weren’t going to talk about that. Not yet.

Richie broke the silence. “Do you want to talk about it? The cake thing?”

“It’s stupid.”

“It’s really not.”

Eddie’s face tensed in that way that made his upper lip almost completely disappear, and a gentle karate chop hand made its way through the air and pointed towards the masterpiece Richie had created. “That— is proof that you actually listen to me. And that you actually care about what I say, that you remember things I mention in passing, that you..” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “That you care about what I like. And I barely know what I like! Richie, you made me four cakes because I’m a 40 year old man who never thought about his favorite cake flavor, because I guess I never had a chance to care? I don’t know! This is probably gonna come up in therapy and it’s embarrassing for me to be crying about cake.”

“Eddie.” Richie sounded choked up, like he half expected for Eddie to go on a rant about responsible sugar intake and instead got an honest emotional reaction from him. They were learning about themselves together, and it was a journey full of strange things— including crying about cake. “You can cry about cake all you fucking want, you think I care? And I promise you, we’ll find your favorite today. And once we do, I’ll lock that little tidbit away forever.” He pointed a finger gently at his skull, as if he needed Eddie to know where he’d be storing that very important information.

It was then that Eddie almost said it. He almost said those three little words but he made them stay inside, squeezing his heart just a little bit. He’d let himself enjoy the weight of it until the time was right.

As if they shared one brain— the two of them moved to sit at the little kitchen table and tuck into the Chinese food before diving into the tower of dessert. Eddie understood now why Bev had ordered the pepper chicken. It was Richie’s favorite, and Eddie was absolutely delighted as he watched the other man rip apart a pair of wooden chopsticks and dig in. It all felt so normal, and so right. Like they were meant to eat take out at a rickety foldable table in a small kitchen for the rest of forever. Eddie thought the cakes were great, but the real birthday present was realizing that he had gotten his best friend back. And neither of them were going anywhere.

Richie, not surprisingly, had commentary for every single cake. He described in detail how much he loved the recipe and how much time it took. He took Eddie through each decoration and made sure Eddie liked the texture of every single kind of frosting. Eddie loved it, and was completely entranced by everything coming out of Richie’s mouth. He was handed slices that were far too big for him to finish alone and so they were _forced_ to finish them together— two forks off of one plate. Eddie finished his half first every single time. Richie was beaming.

“Well?” Richie asked in anticipation, his hands wringing together in front of him as he looked at Eddie where he was seated at the table. “What did you think? Do you have a favorite yet, or do we need a Round Two?”

“Oof, no. No Round Two.” Eddie licked his fork clean of frosting, watching the pastel colors from the funfetti cake get washed away. “Maybe more tomorrow. This is the most sugar I’ve had in years. But I think I got quite attached to that lemon one. It’s fucking delicious, Richie.”

“Yeah?” Richie would have been happy with any of them, of course. But he secretly had hoped that Eddie would like the lemon the best.

“Yeah.” Eddie stood up and walked back over to Richie and the cakes, leaning against it with one ankle crossed over the other and placing his chin in his hand. He looked to the lemon cake, and then to Richie. “This is the best birthday I’ve had in my entire life.”

“Does this mean I’m gonna have to make you a five tier cake next year, Eds? Just to top what I did this year?” Richie mirrored Eddie’s position, placing his chin in his hand and leaning against the counter. They faced each other with smiles they failed to stifle, with the cakes set perfectly between them. “Or do we need to think of something else more fun for us to do?”

“This is assuming you’ll be around for all of my future birthdays.”

“Well yeah. Do you want me to be?”

“Of course I do, dipshit.”

Richie’s smile somehow got bigger. “Cool.”

And then, in what could only be called a burst of inspiration: Eddie moved swiftly to kiss Richie on the cheek, then rip his glasses off his face, and finally end his assault by grabbing a handful of red velvet and smearing it across the entire left side of Richie’s face.

_“Hey what the fuck! Eddie!”_

Eddie practically keeled over with laughter, but still at least managed to set Richie’s glasses down on the countertop behind him. His lungs were still healing so he did his best to calm himself down, but the tightness was worth watching Richie stare at him with one eye covered in cream cheese frosting and a beard full of bright red cake.

“You can tell Ben I give his recipe five stars! It looks great on you, Rich!”

“Very funny.” Richie was still reeling from the cheek kiss, but that would have to wait. For now he needed to accost Eddie by shoving his cake covered cheek as close to Eddie’s mouth as possible while screaming at him to lick it clean.

Instead, Eddie wrestled Richie into a position that almost included a gentle headlock while he took paper towels to the mess he had made. Richie stayed put the best he could, secretly loving all of the attention.

“So.. when do you leave?” Eddie swiped carefully over Richie’s eyebrow, trying to get the red cake crumbs out.

“Ha. I didn’t buy a ticket home yet, actually.”

“Well. You can stay as long as you want. If you want. If you didn’t feel like getting a hotel room, I mean.”

“Are you saying we can have a sleepover, Eddie baby?”

That earned Richie another light shove. “Whatever you want to call it, Trashmouth. Turns out I like having you around. For whatever reason.”

And that was good enough for Richie. “Well of course you do. I’m a delight.” A pause, and then his voice was softer. More genuine. “Happy birthday, Eds.”

“Thanks, Rich.” And then Eddie gave him another little kiss to the cheek. The perfect end to a perfect day.

**Author's Note:**

> I PROMISE IM WORKING ON CHANGING OF THE TIDES!!! i wrote more today!!! eddie and richie will be back soon!!!


End file.
